


Slumbering Demons

by MamaPanda93



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunken Confessions, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Rickyl, Scared Daryl, seriously though, this ship will be the death of me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:38:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8571733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaPanda93/pseuds/MamaPanda93
Summary: After a successful supply run, Rick and Daryl decide to take shelter for the night.Alcohol and hidden feelings don’t mix well, or do they.





	

**Author's Note:**

> After that episode I think we all need some sweet Rickyl! So enjoy this sad/happy story I wrote one night sad and drunk. lol
> 
>  
> 
> I don't own anything, The Walking Dead isn't mine.

Daryl looks up to the top of the tree line to see the sun almost setting above them. Both Rick and him know they have to make a decision fast before the night sky takes over.

 

He then turns his attention towards Rick, worried as they trek through the thick bush, knowing what will become of them if they stay outside any longer. They will become walking human kabobs for the dead to munch on if they stay out any longer.

 

They’ve had such a successful day this far, this isn’t how either of them want it to end, so they agree on finding the abandoned cabin that they have passed earlier along their way.

 

Finding the old run down cabin again isn’t too difficult, It isn’t anything special. Just enough to keep them alive until the morning light.

 

They both work as a team to scope out the area and are surprised there isn’t a walker or anything else in or close by.

 

There isn’t much to keep, just like they thought when they first passed it earlier. Just mostly opened cans scattered across the dusty wooden floor and random house items either broken, collecting dust, or turned upside down.

 

Daryl works on making sure the doors are locked and windows are covered properly with the dirty blankets that were littered along the floors so they didn’t have to worry about light shining outside.

 

Even though they are deep in bushes and haven’t seen a walker in a while. They still don’t want to take any chances, so as soon as Daryl gives Rick a quick nod of approval, he turns on the battery powered lantern they were lucky enough to find hiding away untouched under a bunch of junk in the closet, maybe this place wasn’t such a loss.

\---

Finally once they’ve settled in for the night. Daryl resets the couch up right against the wall and moves a ugly looking coffee table in front of it.

 

After feeling like it’s good enough, he is able to let himself relax a bit, so he flops down heavily on the torn up sofa and raises his feet onto the table he just set into place. Letting out a sigh he didn’t realize he had held up in his lungs.

 

He jumps a little when a quiet double knock on the front door of the cabin wakes him from his daze, letting him know that it’s only Rick.

 

Daryl watches as the older man comes back inside after he assumes he went for a piss. He is about to look away, but Rick has the most sly smirk across his face and locks eyes with Daryl on the couch.

 

“What’s up?”

 

Daryl knew right then and there that he shouldn’t have asked.

 

The hair stands up on the back of his neck when Rick’s grin becomes a full on teeth smile, but not a cheerful smile when he looks at his daughter Judith or when Carl makes him proud. No, more like the kind of smile that makes Daryl think of a teenager about to do something he knows he shouldn’t be doing.

 

The hunter is about to say something else, but Rick turns away from him and goes to find his backpack he set earlier on the dinner table not too far away from the couch.

 

Once Rick has whatever pulled out from his bag, he faces Daryl with the same smile and a large bottle of dark whiskey untouched in his hands, holding it up like a trophy. Very proud of himself as he must have found it on the successful supply run they did earlier and wants to celebrate their hard work.

 

“Nice find, the others will be pleased.”

 

Is all that comes out of Daryl’s mouth as he lets a small smile slip past his lips, thinking about all the good and bad times he has had with the all too familiar whiskey. 

 

Rick lets out a snort of some sorts and shakes his head with amusement and heads towards the couch. The hunter removes his feet from the table, shifts a little more onto the seat, and then tries his best to move out of the way as the other man suddenly sits down beside him, almost too close. 

 

“Who said anything about the others?”

 

Rick whispers through a smirk as he unscrews the bottle top, takes a big swig, and almost spits it back out.

 

“Uhhhh.... I’v forgotten how bad whiskey is straight!”

 

Rick chuckles lightly as he wipes the dribble of alcohol that he has failed to contain in his mouth.

 

Daryl just smiles and shakes his head at the poor bastard beside him. Then shakes it again when the bottle gets put in front of him.

 

“One of us should keep watch...”

 

He gently refuses the bottle within arms reach and tries to settle into the uncomfortable couch a little better, trying not to think too much of the mysterious stains littering it and ungodly smell.

 

The heavy laugh that comes from deep within Rick’s throat drags Daryl out of his thoughts and becomes unhappy that the bottle has moved much closer to his face.

 

“Come on, I don’t want to drink by myself... There’s no danger here, trust me. We will only have a few celebratory drinks for all the stuff we’ve been doing for everyone, then we will save the rest for the others. How does that sound.... Daryl?”

 

The way he says his name has Daryl swallowing down the fear, grabbing the bottle from Rick’s grasp, not breaking eye contact as he did so and takes a small amount of alcohol into his mouth. He wants to look away, but the way Rick is staring deeply into his eyes. Something is drawing him in, he stares back as he gently drinks the gold liquid, it burning its way down his throat. Warming up his stomach instantly and realizing how much he missed the sensation.

 

“I guess the Dixon’s can handle their liquor a lot better than the Grimes, you swallowed that like a pro.”

 

Rick winks so fast, if the other man had blinked, he would have missed it. His cheeks go a light red, blaming the whiskey, and lets a small half smile escape his usually stern face. 

 

Only Rick can bring out this side of him, the side he hates others seeing. 

 

Fears it shows weakness and he knows what showing weakness brings.

 

Daryl does not want to go down that path again.

 

“What can I say... I guess I’m not a pussy like you.”

 

He jokingly states then brings the warm bottle’s rim back to his chapped lips before taking another swig. The chuckle that leaves Rick’s mouth is music to his ears and his lips turn up against the bottle causing more liquid to come rushing down his throat then planned, causing him to choke a little as he fights to keep the whiskey down.

 

Rick has to slap a hand over his mouth to muffle the laughter that’s begging to come out. It’s been so long since he has let his guard down like this outside the walls of Alexandria, but Daryl has this presence about him that causes Rick to want to break down his hardened shell, and to become the man he is destined to be.

 

They settle down after a minute, in fear of making too much noise. Rick sheepishly smiles and pats the hunter’s leg with all the kindness in the world before lifting himself up off the couch. Daryl tries to ignore the sudden emptiness beside him, this isn’t the place or time for that, but the way his hand touched his leg slightly stirred something deep within him.

 

Something he’s wanted to keep asleep.

 

He takes another quick gulp of the liquor still in his clammy hand as he darts his eyes purposely to the other side of the room to avoid staring at Rick as he walks towards his backpack again.

 

“Guess what else I found?”

 

This time the feeling of curiosity runs through his veins as he adverts his eyes back at Rick and looks at the small deck of cards in his hand that he’s waving around playfully.

 

Daryl lets out a snort and shakes his head again for the third time. No matter how much Rick is going to bug him to play some stupid card game like ‘Go Fish’ he isn’t going to break, but the look in the man eyes start to break down his wall and before he knows it, he lost the battle.

 

“Fine..., but only one game, then I’m done for the night. I’ll take watch so you can get some rest.”

 

Daryl complains, feeling completely defeated.

 

The stupid grin that is now spread across his friend’s face brightens up more and he can’t help give a soft smile back.

 

As soon as he gets up off the couch is when the head rush hits him. Once he steadies himself from his mental fog, he glances down at the whiskey bottle in his hand, not realizing how much he has drank already, and is already starting to feel a bit of a buzz.

 

The all too familiar tingling of limps and haze of everything around him. It surprises him how fast he is feeling the effects, but it’s been awhile since he has had a drink.

 

Rick removes his bag from the table and pushes off unimportant things off as well to make room for their card game. Putting the lantern more in the middle of the table, he opens up the card deck and shuffles them quickly.

 

Once Daryl gets to the table, he is surprised and quite happy that it isn’t set up like a stupid grade school game. He recognizes the cards spread out before him and eagerly takes a seat, ready to kick Rick’s ass in poker. He unknowingly took another swig in excitement.

 

Once Rick is happy with the lay out, he finally sits down in the chair closest to Daryl, but makes sure to face a certain way so he’s not accused of cheating.

 

The hunter pretends not to notice the way Rick pulls his chair a little closer or the way he keeps looking up at him for long periods of time.

 

At this point, half an hour or so into the game, Daryl’s losing tract of his cards and is trying his best to keep a poker face, but with the bottle almost empty from passing it back and forth, and the odd looks Rick keeps shooting him, he can’t keep his head straight. Also doesn’t help that the room is slightly spinning too.

 

It finally becomes Rick’s turn and he takes his time. Daryl starts to become more inpatient as the game drags on, all he wants to do is to finish the damn game.

 

To makes things worse, Rick doesn’t look too interested in the game anymore, more interested in staring at Daryl.

 

He knows Rick stares at him a lot, known for the two years he has known him, but never has had the nerve to say anything. He blames the alcohol for his bravery and stupidity for what he’s about to say.

 

“Whatcha staring at, Grimes?”

 

It is suppose to come off annoyed, instead he slurs the man’s name and mentally hits himself for it. He doesn’t turn away though, stares angrily at Rick until he tells him what the fuck he is looking at.

 

“You’re really cute when you’re angry.”

 

Rick snorts out and that earns him a kick to the shin under the table.

 

“OW!” 

 

“I fucking mean it, Rick! Why you keep staring at me like that! You got something you want to say to me?”

 

Daryl is starting to get more frustrated, he has never really been a calm drunk, small things easily piss him off at times like this.

 

Throwing his cards down onto the table, he is about to get up and go outside for a quick breather before he blows up at Rick, but a sturdy large hand clasps down onto his leg and he’s instantly grounded. 

 

Something in him won’t let him move, like Rick’s palm on him has a magical hold.

 

“W-wait....”

 

Rick stutters while looking into Daryl’s eyes, the hunter knows he didn’t mean any harm by it, so he calms down and settles back into his chair. Once his friend’s hand is removed from his lap, it causes him to remember the game they happened to forget about in front of them.

 

“Can we just finish this game up, I think I’m about to kick your ass!”

 

Daryl mocks as he tries to shake off the familiar feeling growing within his stomach from Rick’s touch.

 

The game goes on for another ten minutes before Rick gets distracted again, it is about to be Daryl’s turn when the same hand from earlier lands back upon his leg. He freezes in shock and darts his eyes at the man beside him, hoping for a explanation. Instead he is greeted with glazed over dark blue eyes locked onto his.

 

Daryl feels trapped, he can’t seem to move. Doesn’t want to move. The gravity pull of Rick’s eyes and fingers massaging his knee keeps him still. He wants to bolt, but the other half of him wants to stay. This is a new territory and he doesn’t know if he can handle it. Why would Rick be doing this to him, Michonne is back in town, waiting for him. He can’t think of a explanation for his actions and thinks he never will.

 

Rick has had him wrapped around his finger since day one, will do anything for the man even if it meant risking his own life. He loves his children like his own and will crawl through hell and back for them, he knows he would, because he has.

 

In this moment, he has forgotten about the poker game spread across the table, the musty smell of the cabin, the walker filled world just outside that door, the fears that engulf him on a daily basis.

 

The only thing in this moment he can see, is Rick. The man he tries so damn fucking hard to deny his feelings for is here right in front of him. Staring deep into his soul, trying to awaken the demons that are slumbering deep within.

 

“Daryl....”

 

Rick whispers, like he knows what Daryl is thinking, because he always does.

 

He wants to fight it so bad, push down the monsters that want to come out and play.

 

Desires he has learned to shut off at a young age, when he realized he only liked boys. Such hateful slangs and names he heard from his family, kids at school, and even from a friend he thought he could trust with his feelings.

 

That’s when he learnt, learnt to shut emotions down. No feelings meant no hurt. Because, God, was he ever sick of all the hurt.

 

“I have something I want to tell you...”

 

Rick gently slurs. Without breaking eye contact as he slides his hand up Daryl’s thigh a little more, stopping half way.

 

“Please... Don’t...”

 

Daryl whispers out as he frowns, causing his eyebrows to crease together, he knows what the other is going to say. He just doesn’t want to hear it, never wants to hear it. Knows whatever he has to say will only lead to hurt.

 

He swore to himself on the day he got the living hell beat out of him at school and then from his father afterwords, he’d keep everything hidden.

 

“Baby, please don’t cry.”

 

Daryl doesn’t even realize he is crying until he feels a single tear escape his eye. Before he can wipe it away, Rick’s other hand does it for him, gently caresses his cheek as he pulls himself closer to the hunter.

 

The name he was just called goes straight over his head, Daryl can’t hear much over the beating of his own heart throbbing in his temples.

 

Also shaking like a leaf in fear, not in fear of the man getting closer to him, never would he be scared of Rick.

 

Scared of the man he tries so damn hard not to become, because that means letting someone in. Meaning showing weakness... and Daryl knows all too well what weakness brings forth.

 

Tears.

 

Scars.

 

Betrayal.

 

Pain.

 

With all the alcohol and raw emotion coursing throughout his body, Daryl can’t help lose control over himself as he leans into Rick’s palm still at his cheek and grabs at his other hand on his lap, squeezing it like it’s a life line.

 

“Daryl...”

 

Rick whispers with such sadness. It breaks his heart into a billion of pieces seeing the other man like this.

 

The way he said his name, the amount of alcohol fogging up his brain, and the way Rick’s hands are touching him. Daryl’s wall begins to chip away and before he knows it, he gives up the fight.

 

“Please don’t hurt me....”

 

Rick almost doesn’t hear it and is in complete shock when he does.

 

Something he thought he’d never hear him say, especially to him. Never in a million years would Rick hurt him, would live every day just to make the hunter smile.

 

“Baby, I’d never hurt you, never. I love you too much...”

 

Rick tears up a little as he finally confesses his feelings. Tense, but at the same time, at ease with Daryl by his side. He knows the other man must feel the same way because of the tighter grip on his hand and he hasn’t bolted out of there as fast as his arrows. 

 

He understands the fear, can see it in Daryl’s eyes, can see it in the way his mind is fighting it, but his body is telling a whole different story. So he decides to bite the bullet and try to awaken the demons he knows Daryl hides.

 

“Can I kiss you?”

 

Rick honestly didn’t mean it to sound so eager, but the haziness in his brain and the excitement of the possibility of the other man feeling the same way is almost unbearable.

 

The faint start of shaking of the head almost breaks Rick’s heart into two, until it becomes a few small nods of yes instead.

 

Daryl has his eyes shut so tight, too scared to see the disgust in Rick’s face. Too many times he has seen disgust in others, this is the last person he wants to see looking at him like that.

 

In all of his fears, he misses the smile that Rick gives him.

 

Seconds seem like years and Daryl holds his breath, tenses up, ready for the punch he knows is coming when Rick takes his hands back.

 

Flinching, a hand connects to his face again, but not the touch he expects. Instead of the familiar pain, he feels the gentleness of Rick’s fingertips ghosting his cheeks.

 

The world almost seems to disappear as the air around them stills, the only thing they can hear is the rabid beating of their hearts.

 

Before Daryl can re-think his choice, Rick closes the rest of the distance and softly places his lips against Daryl’s.

 

The rush, facial hair tickling each other, and chapped lips locking for the first time has the hunter in a whole other world, only thing keeping him grounded is the others lips.

 

Rick almost expects him to pull away in fear, but Daryl surprises him by leaning in slightly and moaning into the kiss. This sparks something within him, making him to want to continue the kiss. Deepening it and raising the passion level, Daryl can hardly keep up. He needs to breath, but too scared to pull away. Scared this moment is just a dream and he will wake up alone in Alexandria, with Rick in bed with Michonne instead of him.

 

Instantly relieved when Rick pulls away first, giving them a second to catch their breath. Once Daryl opens his eyes for the first time since the kiss, he regrets looking within Rick’s eyes.

 

Looking back at him with such passion, lust, and pupils dilated, Daryl knows he has lost the battle within himself and lets his demons out to play.

 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> I still find it difficult to write kissing/sex, so one day when I'm comfortable enough with my skills, I will continue this! Until then, thanks for reading! xoxo


End file.
